


Yours to Keep

by Winchesterek



Series: Photographs & Memories [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3B and beyond don't exist, Angst, Epistolary, Letters, Love Letters, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03A
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2017-12-28 20:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 16,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/996105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchesterek/pseuds/Winchesterek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Derek leaves, Stiles starts writing him letters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Friday, August 23, 2013 - Letter One

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the finale of Season 3A when Derek leaves Beacon Hills.
> 
> The finale aired on August 19th (from what I pulled up online) and went into the next day after the eclipse, so I think it's safe to say that Derek left on August 20th if we are keeping with real time (since TW cant keep their timeline straight).
> 
> I'm using these dates as a starting point.
> 
> (Blah blah, I've been informed that TW is still being written in 2011, but I'm just sticking with current time since TW cant keep its timeline straight.)

Derek,

Or should I be addressing this to Sourwolf? You never did like when I called you that. I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore since you’re gone. You left. You didn’t even say goodbye, you dick. You know how much that hurts? I went to your loft after, you know – everything and it was just empty. Not even Peter was there to annoy me. I can’t believe you’re gone, after everything. 

What am I supposed to do?

I guess I kinda had this image in my head how everything was supposed to turn out. Everyone survived and my dad is safe and just – you’re gone. This isn’t how all of this was supposed to turn out. The least you could’ve done was leave me a damn address and tell me where you were going so I can write you. So I wouldn’t be worried about you like I am right now. I tried to call your phone the night that you left and you didn’t pick up. It went to voicemail and I don’t know if you checked your voicemail but I left you one. I called again last night and it’s disconnected. Cora’s number isn’t working either and Peter has just disappeared. Not like he would tell me where you’re at anyway (even though I doubt you would tell him in the first place where you were going).

It’s been three days since you’ve disappeared and it feels like a lifetime. I know we said we weren’t going to tell anyone about us and about this past summer, but I thought you cared enough to at least keep me in the loop. You know that I would never rat you out, man. I thought we’d moved past all those trust issues and that we were closer now. I guess I was wrong. I feel so stupid thinking that this was more than it probably was.

I really miss you. I don’t even have anywhere to send this letter for you to read. I guess writing it just makes me feel like if I get it out maybe I’ll feel better and miss you less. It’s not really helping out all that much and you’re such a dick. You know that? Fucking Sourwolf dick that I’m in love with. I hate you right now because you’re gone and it fucking sucks.

You’ll never read this letter because it’ll never get mailed since I don’t think I’ll ever get a letter from you with an address to send it to, but I’m going to keep it anyway. I’m starting a shoebox to put your letters in. Maybe if I see you again one day I’ll give them to you.

I love you, but then again you knew that already when you left. I hope you’re safe.

Stiles


	2. Tuesday, August 27, 2013 - Letter Two

Derek,

It’s been a week since you’ve left. A whole seven days. I can’t believe that I’ve gone this long without talking to you. I haven’t gone this long without talking to you since before our summer together, even if it was just to purposely ride your nerves so you would pay attention to me. At least we talked then. Well if you count bickering and generally hating each other, but that’s not much different than our usual banter. 

I guess I’m just really sad because I thought that after the whole Alpha Pack and Darach thing got sorted out we would’ve had a chance to have something that resembled normal. Just for a little while, at least. I thought maybe that we could make a real go at this. I was kinda gonna talk to you about it, which is why I came over that night among other reasons (like checking up on you to see how you were after the whole Jennifer thing. I wish I could’ve figured out a way to get her grip on you loosened if I’d’ve known she was using her magical sex to control you. Which I’m still pissed about, but I know you didn’t really have any control over that).

I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall, but that shouldn’t be a new feeling for me. You’re always so damn stubborn, but then again I’ve always been really persistent so I think that works for us. I’m writing these words on this piece of paper that I’m going to tuck into an envelope without knowing if I’ll ever see you again and all I really want to know is if you’re okay. I guess you knew that I’d try to track your phone’s GPS to find out where you were, so I’m not surprised you disconnected the phones and ditched them. You really don’t want to be found and I think that’s what hurts the most, because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me where you were going. I know I already said that before, but – I don’t know. I guess saying it again doesn’t really make any of it better.

I, uh – got a C on my Chemistry test. I know you’d be pissed at me for slacking off, especially since we’re not being hunted by some big bad right now but I kinda fell asleep in the loft while I was studying and ended up being late to class. So I was lucky that the new Chemistry teacher let me take it at all. Her name is Ms. Rosenberg. What the hell kinda name is that? It has too may letters. Mr. Harris was so much easier to write out on papers and tests. I had to freakin’ use spell check to spell Rosenberg. 

Anyway, I guess I’m getting off topic here (like usual). I miss you.

Stiles


	3. Friday, August 30, 2013 - Letter Three

Derek,

So, I’m just gonna point out that everything in this letter is your fault. ALL YOUR FAULT. All of it. And I’m not talking about just a little bit of it. It’s totally your fault (okay maybe not every single thing, but like – the majority of it is totally your fault). You know what, I don’t even know right now, okay? Just – shut up. I know you’ve got that sourwolf look on your face (or you will be when you read this, if ever) and – okay, yeah. I’m totally writing to myself. Then again, I always have conversations with myself. How is it any different that I’m having an argument with your not-so-here-face and this letter? You know what, your future self better not answer that. Or laugh at me. Glaring at a piece of paper in frustration is so much more your style. 

The only thing that I have done for the past THREE DAYS is watch WALL-E! Derek! That is all that I’ve done! You wanna know why? Because I found it UNDER YOUR MATTRESS! What the hell, man? Yeah, totally found the stash. I’ve been looking for this movie for months! I thought I was going insane when I couldn’t find it at home! I went and freakin’ bought another copy just so I could watch it. I cant believe you stole it after we watched it over the summer. You could’ve asked, dude. I would have given it to you. Seriously. What the hell? Now you cant tell me it’s not totally your favorite movie. You forget that I spent all summer with you to get away from Scott moping over Allison. These two little robots that fell in love at the end of the world totally stole your heart.

God, I can’t believe I found it. Totally thought I was going to find some secret stash of werewolf porn under your mattress. Didn’t expect this at ALL. Don’t even get me started on the other movies that I found under there because if Lydia knew that you had a copy of the Notebook under your mattress she would make it her life mission to make you watch it with her every chance she got. And Lydia is scary, so everyone watches the Notebook with her. Even Jackson couldn’t tell her no on that movie when he was still here (and yes I’ve watched it with her, but that’s not the point).

Don’t worry. I can already see your grumpy face at the thought that I’m going to take it back. I’ll leave it under your mattress. I already bought another copy remember? It would be nice to have this one for sentimental value, but I’m really hoping that you’ll come back whenever you’re ready to and that means we’ll watch Wall-E together again like we did over the summer. Now I’m really curious about other things you might’ve hidden in the loft. You should expect a thorough search from me to find all your secrets, just because you’re not here and I’ve got nothing else to do other than study and avoid everyone because they keep asking me what’s wrong and why I’m not myself.

Anyway, I miss you.

Stiles


	4. Friday, August 30, 2013 - Letter Four

Derek,

You know what I just realized? That all these movies were under your mattress when you were having magical sex with Jennifer. The realization kinda made me have to throw that out there and I had to jot this down. My movies have magical Darach sex on them. Hopefully you changed the sheets and things didn't get too crazy since I didn't get the details (not that I want them, no thank you).

Have you even changed your sheets? I'm going to wash them. Does this even count as a letter? It is getting its own envelope anyway.

Expect your bed to be rolled around in since I fully intend on erasing all magical Darach sex from your bed and loft (even if I have to get Isaac to come in here and smell the place to make sure I've scent marked everything).

Stiles


	5. Saturday, August 31, 2013 - Letter Five

Derek,

I washed your sheets like I said I was going to and rolled around in your bed to scent it all up. At least I think it would be after rolling around in it. I don’t exactly have a wolfy nose so I can’t tell myself and I’m not ready to share your place with anyone else yet. No one really knows that I have a key, remember? That was kinda our agreement when we started this. I just really wish I could talk to someone about this. About us. I’ve almost caved several times since you’ve been gone and wanted to spill everything to Scott but I promised you that I wouldn’t and you know that I keep my promises. Especially the ones that I make to you. 

Update? The pack is doing well. Ethan and Aiden have really become part of the pack and they’re really taking their relationships seriously with Danny and Lydia. I think they’re planning on staying for good here and Scott has accepted them into the pack. Allison and Isaac seem to have gotten closer. Like, really close. I wouldn’t be surprised if they are sleeping together and to spell it out to you I mean SEX, since you’d otherwise have that confused look on your face unless you were actually around them to smell them. I’m just using my eyeballs. No wolfy senses. Scott hasn’t bitten me and I don’t want the bite from anyone but you. I know we talked about that and I agreed that I didn’t want it. Not for a long time anyway, if ever. Scott has been okay. He has been focusing on lacrosse to try and ignore the whole Allison and Isaac thing, but I think he’s okay with it. But him being okay with it means dragging me out to practice for more than just practice at school like, ALL the time. I’m so fucking exhausted. There’s only so much I can do. I’m still human after all.

I know I sound like a broken record when I say that I miss you in every letter, but I do. I’m just not used to you not being here like you always are with your grumpy werewolf face that you always show everyone (since I’m the only one that gets to see you smile). Or your broody shoulders when you’re staring out this big ass window that I’m sitting in front of right now and, you know – how you always have your nose in a book. I was going through your bookcase and I saw that you read the ones that I bought for you. I’m just going to assume that you liked them because you finished them and just because I’m awesome and have awesome taste in everything (I fell in love with you after all).

Anyway, I’ve really gotta start studying for this Chemistry test again. Ms. Rosenberg is going to let me retake the test that I made a C on and my retake is Monday so I’ve really gotta try and focus on this here. She said she’ll average the two tests together and that’ll be my new grade so at least I have a chance to bring my grade up. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you so I had to write you this letter before trying to get into the Chemistry zone. 

I love you and I hope you’re safe and happy.

Stiles


	6. Sunday, September 1, 2013 - Letter Six

Derek,

I can’t sleep. I fell asleep at the loft while I was studying for that Chem test and – Derek I’m worried about you. I just – I woke up with this feeling in the pit of my stomach that’s just… wrong. I’ve been having nightmares. I’ve been having them since you left. They’re always different, but there’s one thing that’s always the same in all of them: you die. You die, Derek. In all of them. I don’t know what to do and I don’t even know what to think about them but they scare me. With all the supernatural shit that happens here and with the Nematon brought back to life from all the Darach crap that went down, I don’t know – I just. Anything can happen, right? I don’t even know if you’re alive. I don’t even want to think about you being dead. I’d rather you just be gone and not talking to me and safe and happy. I just, I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.

I’ve been trying to find you, but there’s nowhere to really look for you. I ran into Peter the other day and I don’t know if he knows where you’re at, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. I didn’t think that he would since he’s his usual dick self, but I had to try at least. I don’t think my threat to bury him with wolfsbane was at all effective. I thought it was pretty convincing. Peter just gave me one of those looks you Hales have perfected for my kind of sarcasm. I’m kind of lost on where to look for you, but I’ve started pulling up old files on where you and Laura went after the fire. I tracked down some old school records in Brooklyn, New York. I’ve got an old address, but I’ve already called and checked to see if it has been rented and you’re not the tenant. I don’t even know if you’re in Brooklyn or even the state of New York but that’s really the only lead that I’ve got and it’s on the other side of the damn country. 

Honestly, part of me doesn’t even want you to come back now because of these dreams. If you come back then they might actually happen since they always happen here in Beacon Hills when I’m having them. I don’t even know what IT is that kills you. I just know that you die and in every dream they use me to get to you. I’m scared Derek. I’m afraid for you more than myself and it terrifies me that if you come back something is going to take you away from me again. I can’t lose you. It’ll ruin me.

At least I have a picture of you. One without your eyes flaring all crazy like. It’s a picture of you and Laura in Times Square. It’s actually where I got the idea to start looking for you in New York. It was in one of the books that I bought you that you finished reading. I found it when I was looking through them the other day. It’s kinda beat up, but I put it in my wallet so I always have you with me. I’ll keep it safe for you.

I love you.

Stiles


	7. Wednesday, September 4, 2013 - Letter Seven

Derek,

It’s been fifteen days since you’ve been gone. Today I only have one question for you: WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! Oh my GOD! I finally opened the fridge and there are some things in there that are the perfect representation of Darwinism. I swear whatever is in some of these containers is going to come out and eat me once it gets big enough. What on earth did you have in the fridge? I can’t even tell what it is anymore. All shape of origin is gone. I can’t even tell if it was something that you cooked or if it was raw when it started out. All of it smells horrible! You really couldn’t have cleaned the fridge out before you decided to leave for an indefinite amount of time? That would have been great. Actually that would have been awesome because now I have to clean it out myself. 

The stuff that hasn’t grown into monsters I’ve started to eat. Mostly everything in the pantry and cabinets. I ate all your special cereal that you never let me touch when you’re here with your special fiber flakes. We’ve been forbidden from each other for so long. It was a special moment for the cereal and me. Speaking of forbidden munchies. Since you’re not here I decided that you didn’t need your guilty pleasure anymore and since I knew where the hiding space was behind a panel in the bottom of the pantry under the last shelf, I went ahead and helped myself to your KitKats. I know you hide them from the pack and you only eat them every once in a while, but I couldn’t just leave them there going to waste. They’re already kind of stale, but they’re still good. I’m actually eating them right now and I’m almost done with the bag. I’m probably going to get a stomachache and you’d laugh at me and tell me it’s my own fault after you threatened to rip my arms off because I ate them (even though you wouldn’t hurt me).

I took my makeup test Monday and I got it back today. I got a 93! Woohoo! Chemistry isn’t so bad. Ms. Rosenberg is pretty awesome. She makes class fun. Whenever we have to get into groups to do labs or if we get called on in class and give the right answer she rewards us with candy. I swear it has made my knowledge of Chemistry so much better. I’m also probably going to get a lot of cavities now, but at least my grades are better. That’s going to be my excuse when my dad makes me go to the dentist and they tell him that I need like a ton of fillings. Tuesday I laughed so hard in Chemistry because Ms. Rosenberg pegged a piece of chalk at Scott when he wasn’t paying attention to a lecture that she was giving (he was talking to me but I didn’t get hit with a piece of chalk). I kinda think that I’m her favorite and that’s new for me. Teachers don’t really see me as their favorites, but she’s kinda quirky and funny and I think she gets me on a nerdy level.

Anyways. I’m going to eat the rest of these KitKats and then take a nap before doing more homework.

Miss you.

Stiles


	8. Saturday, September 7, 2013 – Letter Eight

Derek,

It has been eighteen days without a word from you. I really thought I’d get a letter by now. Guess not. We got a new English teacher at school finally. All the teachers have been doing rotations to sub that class all semester. His name is Mr. Pryce and he’s super strict and actually English. He actually has two lasts names and it’s one of those hyphenated ones, but that’s too damn long to write down on everything so we call him Mr. Pryce. We’ve already been assigned a paper in that class and he just started, like, yesterday. Who the hell starts their first class on a Friday? He couldn’t wait until Monday to assign us a paper? I swear that he had this planned out to ruin our whole weekend. Now I actually have to work on this over the weekend because he wants an outline and a proposal for our paper. I haven't even decided what the hell I’m going to write it over. He wants us to pick out some literature and I guess that’s kinda supposed to be the basis of our paper. I haven't really looked into the details of what I need to do because I’m trying to avoid it for as long as I can. I hate writing papers. I just get so distracted and bored when I have to do them. They probably sound worse than my letters because I jump around a lot when I try to sit down and try to focus on writing about just one thing. Sigh. But if I don't do it that means I’ll probably fail the class since it’s part of our major grade. It’s weighted more than our tests. That’s lame.

Dad has been working a lot of doubles lately since they haven't found a new deputy so I’ve been staying at the loft on the weekends and most nights where I don't have to see him bright and early in the morning. I don't really think he’s noticed that I haven't been home with all the extra work that he’s had to do down at the station. I usually come over to the loft after school and work on my stuff here. At least then I don't have to deal with having Scott crash in on me to see what I’m up to. I haven't told anyone yet that I come here and I’m not really planning on it. I like this being just a you and me place. I wish you were here. I miss you just being here, even if you’re reading or cooking while I’m being my usual annoying self. If I’m being honest with myself, I really come to the loft every day after school to see if you’ve come back yet and I wait. You never show up, but I wait anyway. I pass out most days while studying. I feel like I’ve moved into the place, except I don't have any clothes here. Maybe I’ll occupy one of your drawers since you’re not using them anymore. You can kick me out of it when you come back to reclaim it.

Oh, you’ll never guess what I found! Apparently you forgot your MP3 player. I found it stashed in the bookshelf when I was looking for something to read earlier (avoiding this paper to my bestest abilities). I can't believe that you still have this playlist that I made for you on it. I’m totally going to be listening to this while I study and try to write this damn paper. Then again, it’ll just make me miss you more. Maybe I shouldn't. Everything makes me miss you. Even your stupid fiber cereal that had me less than ten feet from a restroom the past several days. I even skipped out of school. I ate the whole box, man. I’m NEVER eating it again! You can keep it. I promise I won't touch it anymore. I guess I should start buying some groceries for this place since I’ve gone through everything that you’ve left behind that was edible. Anyways, I need to start trying to figure out what I’m going to come up with for my proposal. I hooked up your MP3 player to my laptop and I’ve got it running.

Love you.

Stiles


	9. Tuesday, September 10, 2013 - Letter Nine

Derek,

I can't believe that it’s already Tuesday. It felt like yesterday that I was writing you even though it’s been three days. I’ve been so wrapped up in working on this paper for Mr. Pryce’s class. I got that outline and proposal turned in yesterday and thankfully it was approved. Our paper is due at the end of the week. Mr. Pryce believes in quick work apparently. I really think he’s just testing us to see which of us are actually going to get it done and who’s going to slack off. I’m totally hating Lydia right now because she’s already done with her damn paper and turned it in today. Augh. Scott will be lucky if he gets it in on Friday. He’s so bad at writing papers and he doesn't even have ADHD as an excuse. I’ve already started writing on it so I’m pretty sure I’ll be done and turn it in on Friday if I can manage to stay on track. I decided to do it over Wise Blood by Flannery O’Connor. I read it a while back so at least it’s something that I’m familiar with. It wasn't too hard to write up the outline and proposal once I decided that I was going to write it over. Anyway, Mr. Pryce will probably end up giving us a new paper after this one is done with knowing how he is (after already a few days in his class). I’ll probably have to go through my old papers and see if any of them fit the criteria and tweak them for his class if he keeps this up every couple of weeks. Who has time for this crap? English is really a sore subject for me and I’m not enjoying it (still).

I made a Lost Sourwolf poster with my phone number and email printed on those little detachable slips at the bottom of the flyers and put one in my locker at school. Uh, I also put one in the loft and a couple in my room. I thought it was pretty funny and Scott got a good laugh out of it when he saw it the other day. I haven't actually put any up around town or at school or anything, but it was a pretty nice little laugh on top of all the missing you that’s been driving me crazy. And I do miss you, like, horribly. It’s been twenty-one days. I don't think a letter or hell, a postcard, would be too much to ask for. I’d settle for a phone call or you know, a horrible breath-only voicemail left at an ungodly hour just so I know that you’re okay.

I finally had to buy groceries for the loft since I polished off everything that was edible that you left behind. It was either that or I was going to start starving to death without any food here. The fridge is stocked and so is the pantry. I tried to make some popcorn yesterday and turns out the microwave wasn't plugged in. Thank the PTBs that’s all it was because here I was thinking that you needed a new microwave. I doubt my dad would notice if I took the one from our kitchen, but I plugged yours back in. Works perfectly. I didn't know that you kept your cookbook hidden behind the microwave, though. That was an interesting find. And here I always thought you cooked from memory or some cooking-god place that made awesome food all the time without a recipe. Lies! It’s all been lies! Your meatloaf and beef stew recipes are now miinnneeee! Well, that and every other recipe that you have in here. You want to learn how to make rabbit and quail? What? They didn't teach that to you in werewolf school? I figured they’d have some kind of wild-game cooking class or something. Those recipes look pretty difficult. I might try them out at some point, but I have no clue where to get a rabbit or a quail and I’m not going to go hunting for them, either. Although I can make a mean cheesecake so I’ve got you covered for that on your return. I’ll make you a cheesecake and we can eat it in bed ;) how does that sound? No caramel in bed. Imagine trying to get homemade caramel out of the sheets. You also have oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies marked in your cookbook. My mom used to make great oatmeal cookies. I never managed to get it down like she had it, but this recipe looks pretty simple. I can make chocolate chip! Score two for Stiles.

Anyway, now I’m hungry. I’m gonna go double check to see if I have stuff to make meatloaf cause that sounds good for tonight between studying. Love you.

Stiles


	10. Friday, September 13, 2013 - Letter Ten

Derek,

So… it’s Friday the 13th. You know what that means? Friday the 13th marathon! Because you can't NOT have a marathon on Friday the 13th! And I’m pretty much game for any movie (even the shitty remakes). So, yeah. That’s what I’m doing today. It’s Friday and I’m going to make some popcorn and I’m gonna have a marathon on my laptop by myself in your loft. How sad is that? You’re supposed to be here with me to watch bad cinema and yell at the stupid characters and throw popcorn while they’re getting slaughtered. Although if I had my way that would lead to making out and then getting fucked over the back of the couch, but you know me. I think the couch misses the action as much as I do. Poor couch. Oh and I made cookies. The oatmeal ones came out not-so-good (but I wouldn't say horrible...okay maybe I would) so I made some chocolate chip ones (no I didn't make them out of a box or buy the dough pre-made and frozen). My dad didn't die when I had him try one and I’m still alive so I think that they turned out pretty good. I’d save some for you, but they’d go stale before you even got to try them (you know since its been twenty-four days without a single word from you or any sight of your judgy eyebrows).

Anyway, I turned in my paper this morning. So glad I got that piece of crap in so I don't have to worry about working on it over the weekend (especially since it would be considered late if I turned it in on Monday). Mr. Pryce hasn't assigned us a new paper yet but I have a suspicion that one is coming up next week, if not the one after that at the latest. He’s okay I guess. He’s pretty British and he cleans his glasses a lot. Is that a British thing? I think it’s an OCD thing for him (or maybe he does it when he’s deciding how to murder the classroom because we’re too American).

Allison and Isaac came out as a couple by the way. I know I haven't talked about the pack in a while, but I figured that was important to note. Scott is pretty cool with it. I think he’s known about it for a while (you know, cause of that werewolf nose of his) and honestly I think there’s kind of this…threeway thing going on between them. He hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet and neither of them have said anything (not like they would tell the world something like that), but I’m pretty sure my keen observation skills are picking up on things that they think they’re being subtle about. And I’m not talking about just some kinda threesome, I’m talking about like a full blown threeway relationship. I knew that Scott kinda had a thing for Isaac and you know that he’s always going to be in love with Allison so I guess it kinda works for them. Hopefully it lasts. I hate for him to get hurt with all this (especially since it would be breaking up with Allison _again_ and this time adding Isaac to the mix).

I was going through your drawers last night. Thanks for leaving my favorite shirt behind. That’s something, at least. I’d like to think it still smells like you, but it doesn't really smell like anything to my human nose. It’s really soft. I love how soft this shirt is. I always loved falling asleep on the couch over the summer against you when you had this shirt on. I’m actually wearing it right now. It’s a little big, but it fits. Having this just makes me miss you more. It hurts…not having you here and worrying about you. I wish I knew how you were doing.

I miss you and I really need you here with me.

Stiles


	11. Monday, September 16, 2013 - Letter Eleven

Derek,

So… I think I kinda went overboard. Since you’ve been gone I’ve been adding movies to the collection under your mattress and now it’s kinda, uh - bulging. Yeah, I guess that’s the right word. Anyway, I had to start taking the movies out of under the mattress because I couldn't really sleep in the bed anymore. Your drawers are empty so I started putting them in your dresser. They stack up nicely and you can see all the titles so it’s easy to pick which movies I wanna watch. Your DVD rack was already filled, so - yeah. Now the bed is back to its normal comfortable self. Naps are much easier to take now than they have been the past few days.

Oh, I added Nightmare Before Christmas to the movies. I know you’ve never seen it and I thought it would be nice if we could watch it when you got back. Maybe if you’re back before Halloween? I always watch it with Scott on Halloween. It’s kind of a thing that we do, but I think Scott would be cool with you watching it with us. I’d ask him, but I don't know if you’ll be back by then. We usually watch Charlie Brown on Christmas so I added that to the movies too so we could have it for later. And if you’re back before Christmas we can watch that too. Or, you know - we can just watch them any time you get back.

You need to come back. If you haven't noticed I’ve been counting the days since you’ve been gone. Today is day twenty-seven. I still haven't found any solid leads on where you’ve gone or what you’ve been up to. I guess you’re pretty good at covering your tracks when you don't want to be found. That’s unfortunate for me. I just… I need you to come back. Okay? Please. Just get your ass back to Beacon Hills and I promise you that I’ll do whatever you want. Anything. Just come home to me.

Anyway… I brought over a few of my comics. Actually, a lot. Not my whole collection, but enough to keep me company whenever I’m taking breaks between studying and other stuff. Or you know, just hanging out. I, uh - I actually kinda brought over some clothes too. A bag of clothes. I’ve taken over all of your drawers so when you get back I’ll have to condense down to a couple of drawers (or just take my stuff back home if you want me to do that instead). I guess I’ve kinda moved into the place. It’s nice, you know. If you were here it would be perfect.

I miss you.

Stiles


	12. Sunday, September 28, 2013 - Letter Twelve

Derek,

Sorry I haven't written in almost two weeks. I’ve been… it’s been a difficult time for me. I’ve just been - a lot of things have been happening. You know, school and stuff. Yeah. And well, it’s kind of my moms death anniversary. Today. It’s usually pretty hard for me and my dad around this time of the year, especially since my mom’s birthday is next month. The dates are pretty close together if you think about it, which I try not to. It’s just one of those days where I sit around thinking about her and my dad works a double shift so he doesn't end up drinking the next twenty-four hours away. He’s not home right now. He’s working, like he always is on this day. So, I’m here - at the loft. Just like I am every day. You’re not here… like you never are.

I miss you so fucking much. It hurts. Okay? It fucking sucks and it hurts. You need to be here, especially for days like this. You fucking need to be here with me and you’re not and I hate you for it because dammit Derek - where the fuck are you?! Seriously?! If you fucking loved me you wouldn't have just taken off without a letter or a call or hell - you wouldn't have fucking left in the first place. God dammit! If I didn't love you so fucking much it wouldn't hurt like this. Or better yet! You would have taken me _with you_! Did you ever think about that? I would’ve left in a heartbeat if you would’ve just come and got me. I wouldn't have even packed a bag if you wanted to leave _right then_. Why didn't you come and get me? If you would have, then I wouldn't have to be here without you.

Just… I need you. It’s been thirty-nine days since you left and the longer you’re away the more I feel like I’m falling apart. I physically can't take being away from you like this. _I need you_.

Sigh. (Yes I wrote the word sigh. Shut the fuck up, don't make fun of me right now. You’re an ass, okay. A fucking ass that I’m in love with.)

Anyway. I always make lasagna today. My mom always made this awesome vegan lasagna and it’s absolutely amazing. I have the recipe and I always follow it but I can never seem to make it the same or like she does. I’m not sure if there’s some kind of secret ingredient that she had or something, but every time I make it, it always tastes different than the last time. I don't know, maybe I’m reading the instructions incorrectly. Or maybe there’s a secret page in her cookbook that I’m missing. She always used to tell me that the secret ingredient is love, but everyone knows that you can't bottle that and literally put it in as an ingredient. And I have plenty of love, so I’m not missing that. I’m full of love. So much love that I’m overflowing with it and you need to come back dammit so I can give you some of it. I have too much love right now. I swear Derek _Michael_ Hale you are in so much trouble. Augh. You’re in the doghouse trouble (yes, I said doghouse). And if I owned a doghouse you would be sleeping in it (and I’d probably be sleeping in it with you too because I’d miss you too damn much)!

Dog. House. _DOGHOUSE!_ Fuck. I swear.

Get your ass home right now mister. I need you here with me. I love you so much and I miss you like crazy.

Stiles


	13. Friday, October 4, 2013 - Letter Thirteen

Derek,

It’s day forty-five. My mom’s birthday is next week. I’m going to visit her and talk to her about you. I wish you could meet her.

I know I sound like a broken record, but I miss you.

Stiles


	14. Wednesday, October 9, 2013 - Letter Fourteen

Derek,

Today is my mom’s birthday. She would’ve been forty-one today. I can't believe it’s been nine years since she died. I don't know if I ever told you, but she died when I was eight. I was at the hospital alone with her when she died. My dad was at work. He didn't show up for a few hours because he was out on some call or something. Something not important. At least not as important as my mom. She died without him there. He should have been there. I remember sitting in her room watching her sleep. I wanted to be on the bed next to her, but she was in a lot of pain so the nurses said it wouldn't be a good idea. She had cancer. A couple of months before she died my mom decided to stop her treatments. They were doing aggressive treatments and she said they were very painful. She was always sick and the treatments weren't working. The doctors said the cancer was spreading and it wasn't responding to the treatments. There wasn't anything that they could do anymore other than make her comfortable. So that's what they did.

She just stopped breathing. I was watching her and she just stopped breathing. I wasn't even sure what to think at first. I mean, I was eight. I didn't even really understand what happened until the nurses came in and one of them took me outside. They didn't try to revive her. I read over my mom’s file a few years later when I was at the hospital hanging out with Scott (always doing something illegal) while his mom was working. It was always the hospital or the station since it was hard for our parents to find a babysitter when they were both working. Anyway, in my mom’s file one of her requests was not to be resuscitated.

I sat in the hallway while they took her away and stayed there until my dad showed up. This one pretty nurse kept trying to give me suckers, but my mom always told me never to take candy from strangers. Now that I think about it, her eyes kinda remind me of yours. They were the same shade of green and looked kinda gray-blue at a certain angle. Her hair was black like yours. Or maybe I just miss you so damn much that my memory is making her look like you.

You know, for the longest time I was angry with my dad for not being there when she died. I was angry with him when he showed up at the hospital. I think the anger was the only way that I could deal with her death if I didn't want to be having panic attacks all the time. Then my dad drowned himself in a bottle when she died and I even started to hate him a little bit. He was supposed to be _my dad_ and _her savior._ It took me a long time and a lot of panic attacks to view it differently. He was a man that had just lost his whole world when she died. He didn't know how to be my dad without her. And I was a kid… I didn't know how to save him. And I couldn't. When she died I think thats when I stopped being a kid. I had to grow up. I had to take care of my dad. Sometimes I wonder if I ever was a kid in the first place. It’s hard to remember what it was like to be carefree and happy. I was a kid when my mom was alive and when she died I feel like her death robbed me of my childhood. I know that’s a horrible thing to say, but it’s hard not to see it that way. I don't hate her for it. I’m not angry with her for it. I miss her too damn much for any of that. She’s my mom. I love her.

It’s been fifty days since you left. Fifty. I can't believe that it’s been so long. Counting in days makes it seem like forever. I guess its only been _almost_ two months. That makes it sound shorter. I’m just not used to not seeing you every day. I’m sitting here with my mom writing this letter to you. I brought her some flowers. I bring her flowers every year on her birthday and I kinda camp out for a while to make sure that no one steals them. Her flowers have been stolen a few times and my dad always says it’s the thought that counts and not the flowers, but I want her to enjoy having them for a little while. She always loved the way they smelled.

I told her all about you. I’ve actually been talking to her for a while about you. The first time I talked to her about you was not too long after you found me and Scott in the forest that time when we were looking for Scott’s inhaler. I’ve kinda been talking to her about you ever since. She knows everything Derek. She knows about you being a werewolf and she knows how much I love you. She knows how much I miss you. How much I need you. I told her that _you’re it for me_. You’re the one that I want to spend the rest of my life with and I don't ever want there to be anyone else. I’ll wait for you. However long you’re gonna be away, _I’ll wait for you_.

I want what we talked about. I want to be your mate. I know that I’m not a werewolf, but you said that humans can be mates too. And if I need to get the bite to make everything official then I will. If I ask Scott and he’s sure that I want it, I think he will give it to me. If he doesn't, we can still figure it out. You said Peter’s mate, Olivia, was human and there were other human mates in your pack. We can make it work. We _will_ make it work. Everything will be the way it’s supposed to be when you come back. We will make it right.

Just come home to me. _Please._

Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright... finally going to leave a note on the chapter. So, we're just gonna ignore everything about Stiles' mom's death that has recently been revealed in canon. Okay? Okay. I always thought that cancer sounded better (especially better than FTD as they've recently revealed her sickness to be). So we're gonna stick with that.
> 
> I did stick with her age of death being 32, according to what her file read in a recent episode, so I aged her accordingly for this letter. And we're just going to ignore the whole Stiles' age issue, since that's all a mess in canon already.


	15. Saturday, October 12, 2013 - Letter Fifteen

Derek,

It’s kinda cold today. Then again, anything below seventy degrees is cold to me. I turned on the heat. I’m surprised everything is still working in this place. Then again if it’s still on and working then that means that you’re planning on coming back, right? You’re still paying the bill (unless you somehow hijacked electricity and water) and you wouldn't be paying the bill and wasting money like that if you weren’t coming back soon. That or I’m gonna wake up with hypothermia one morning or freeze to death overnight when we get one of those cold winter nights in the twenties. Any of those are real possibilities. At least if the heat turns off in the middle of the night. If I haven't already told you, I’m pretty much living here now. In the loft. My dad has switched to nights since no one really wants to work that shift and he hasn’t hired a new deputy yet. I think he’s afraid that anyone he hires is going to die and he doesn't want another death on his hands that he could have prevented. Especially since he knows about all the big bad things that go bump in the night now.

So, yeah. I’ve been living at the loft. My dad hasn’t been home to notice and by the time he gets off shift I’m at school. I make sure to be home the nights he has off, but other than that I haven't really been at my house much at all. Uh, but - I do take the groceries. Maybe that’s why my dad doesn't suspect. Because the food keeps disappearing. But, hey! At least the loft has groceries. Well, when I don't eat them all. I’m surprised I haven't gained like fifty pounds from all the food I’ve been scarfing down. I’m probably eating enough for two werewolves. Or maybe one pregnant werewolf. Don't ask me where that thought came from. I don't even know…

Okay. Maybe I do. You’ll never guess what’s happening! There are a few new werewolves in town. Of course they came looking for this True Alpha they heard about. Apparently Scotty-boy is getting popular among whatever werewolf community-networking thing you werewolves have going on. There’s like a werewolf grapevine or something. Anyway. They wanna join the pack. Dude! And they have were-babies!! There’s a young couple and two others from a different pack. They were talking about Beacon Hills like it was Mecca. They seemed pretty surprised that there wasn't a Hale in the territory (and Peter has completely disappeared). I think they were even more surprised that Scott was the True Alpha. I don't know. Maybe they were expecting you to be the Alpha? Either way, Scott said they could stay under his protection as long as they don't cause any problems. They seem nice (but we all know how that appearance thing is) and willing to do whatever it takes to join the pack. The couple with kids are born wolves.

Oh my God, Derek! I played with their two were-pups for like hours when they were talking to Scott. I’m sure I was coming off as a horrible right-hand and second, but I really couldn't help myself. And why the _hell_ didn't you tell me that you could shift into a wolf pup as a kid?! That’s the most adorable fucking thing _ever_. When I asked them about it they said all born-weres shift back and forth between puppy form and human for the first couple of years before they settle into their beta form. How fucking awesome is that? I _demand_ to hear all the stores about you as a pup when you get back. There is absolutely _no way_ I am going to accept any answer other than a _yes_. You _will_ tell me. I will withhold sex if you don't. Don't think I won't go through with it.

I might be getting puppy-fever. This is not a good thing. Nope. No. Puppy-fever equals bad.

Speaking of packs. I guess everyone is doing okay. Scott’s getting used to the whole Alpha thing pretty easily. It was kinda touch-and-go there at first with his first full moon as an Alpha, but he managed to work it out. Ethan and Aiden are still trying to be part of the pack and trying to win over Lydia and Danny, but that hasn’t been working out that well. Isaac is good. And you know him and Allison and Scott. Yeah. Pretty sure it’s what I called it as before. Totally.

And, uh - I told Scott. About us. I know that I promised you that I would keep everything under the radar, but that was when you were here with me and when I wasn't missing you like crazy. But you’re gone now and I don't know if and when you’re coming back. I’m sorry. I needed to tell someone and Scott is my best friend. It hurts too damn much not having you here and I just couldn't keep it in anymore. It just came out the other night when we were having our pizza and Halo night. I think it was hard for him to understand at first because we always put up such a good front of disliking each other to an extent, but after talking to him I think he gets it. He wants me to be happy and if I’m happy with you then that’s what matters. But I’m not happy without you here with me and Scott knows that too. And he’s worried about me. He’s known that something’s been up with me (since you left) even though he couldn't really figure out what exactly that something was.

Needless to say he wants to rip your head off for leaving, but I had to point out that would make me more upset because then you wouldn't have a head when you come back and I need you to have a head so I can tell you what an asshole you are for leaving me like you did. Come back already you fucker. How long are you going to be gone? You’ve been gone long enough already. Get your ass back home right now mister.

You’ve been gone for fifty-three days now. Today is day fifty-three. I’ve, uh, I’ve been saving up random Beacon Hills postcards for the past fifty-three days and today I put them all in the mail at the post office. The last address I had for you in New York was the one that I found that I mentioned before. I know you’re not there, but I’m hoping either the tenants or the post office get overwhelmed by all the postcards and somehow magically forward them to you or know how to contact you to come get your mail. Surprise! You have fifty-three postcards on their way (hopefully) to you. This is my test to see if this works. If not, I’ll be getting fifty-three postcards to the return address of the loft. I’ll keep sending you one every day from here on out. If I get all fifty-three back, well, you’ll have fifty-three postcards (and counting) waiting for you when you come home. I’ll try to make sure that none of them are repeat postcards. If I have to I’ll get blank ones and create some or figure something out.

My nightmares are getting worse. I know I mentioned them in one of the first letters that I wrote and haven't mentioned them since, but they never went away. I need you to be okay. I just wish that you could let me know somehow that you’re all right and safe. I can't even get a letter to you (hence the postcard test). All I can do is wait and waiting fucking sucks. It sucks so bad. (Insert a dirty comment here. You know I like to make them about loving sucking on you.)

I just need you to know that I will always want you. I don't want you to ever think that I won't. No matter how long it takes you to come back to me I will always want you. I miss you.

Stiles


	16. Wednesday, October 16, 2013 – Letter Sixteen

Derek,

Day fifty-seven. I feel like I’m keeping a log now instead of writing you letters. You know, since letters are meant to be sent, read and responded to. You should have started getting some of the postcards I sent you last time (or whoever lives in your old apartment now, ha! They’re probably swamped with postcards). That or they’re going to start coming back to me soon. Maybe the post office will be kind enough to deliver them back to me in a large box. I hope they don’t just dump them outside the loft. Cause that would fucking suck. Then again, they don’t actually take care delivering mail to my dad’s house. They just shove it all into the box and the mail gets all crumpled up. Sometimes they don’t even close the mailbox. I’ve walked outside to get the mail before and its been hanging wide open for who knows how long. Guess they were in a really big hurry, or you know, just lazy fucks. There is this one mailman named Miguel that is pretty cool. I used to run into him all the time before my life became plagued with all things supernatural (and yes that is where I got the name Miguel from).

I’m cooking dinner right now. I couldn’t decide between your mom’s pot roast recipe and my mom’s meatloaf one, so I’m making both. At least I wont have to cook for a few days since I’ll have plenty of leftovers. I made my awesome salad that you love and I’m munching on that right now while the food is cooking. I even put those disgusting little radishes that you like into it and I’m picking _every single one_ out and making a little pile of them for you to come eat. Hurry up. They’re gonna go bad if you don’t get here soon. I just don’t understand how you like these. Yuck. The only thing I like about them is that they are a nice red color, but otherwise yuck man. No matter how many radishes you eat you’re never gonna make up for all those secret stashes of candy that you have around the loft, which I found the rest and yes I ate them. Do you just leave them around the loft for Isaac to sniff out for treats when he stayed here? Or was it _because_ he sniffed them out that you had so many hidden stashes? Since some of them were stale I’d assume both are true. Ha! Apparently my human skills are better at finding candy (stale or otherwise) than Isaac’s.

Radish. Gross. Added to the pile. I’ve got enough to build a mini-radish-pyramid right now. Too bad I don’t have a pet to feed them to. I’d be sneaking them under the table right about now to get rid of my radish-pyramid since you’re not here to dispose of it for me.

Oh, you’ll never guess what happened (or maybe you will since nothing is really that surprising in this town anymore). Remember the new Chemistry teacher Ms Rosenberg I mentioned before? The cool nerdy redhead. (Why do all the geniuses I know always have red hair?) Well, she’s a witch. Don’t freak out. I’m fine. Plus, if you were really worried about me or cared for my safety then you would be here to protect me from all the potential evil things lurking in Beacon Hills.

Anyway. So she’s a witch. A good witch. You know, the ones that save people instead of killing them off as sacrifices. (If you were here right now you would be getting a look. You know what for.) Well, she showed me some magic stuff. Don’t worry; it’s all white magic. No black magic for Stiles. I can float a pencil now, but I lost control of it and almost stabbed Scott with it. Thank whatever powers are out there for werewolf reflexes or he probably would have lost an eye, or both. I’m sticking to feathers now. A lot less deadly. What are they going to do, tickle me to death? She came to town because the Nematon’s power drew her here. She says the tree has some really bad mojo and that somehow we need to find a way to mask the tree’s power-beacon or all kinds of nasties are going to be flocking to Beacon Hills. She says she grew up on a Hellmouth (whatever the fuck that is – research time!) and it was a beacon just like the Nematon is becoming. Maybe my dreams of your death have something to do with the tree. Maybe its renewed power is affecting me somehow. I don’t know. I should probably try to talk to Ms. Rosenberg about it. After all, she’s one of the good guys.

Oh, here is some shocking news – Ms Rosenberg and Mr Pryce are apparently a thing. Not so shocking news – they met on that Hellmouth she told me about. I guess there is just something about evil and how it’s always trying to murder people that brings them together. Putting that theory to work I guess it’s no surprise that you learned to love my awesome-spastic-self. You couldn’t resist me and my non-evilness. Oh and my hot ass. ;) Ha. Now if you would just come home and claim it everything would be (almost) perfect. I miss being with you and it’s not just about the sex so don’t make it about that. The loft doesn’t even smell like you anymore. At least not to my human nose. I’m pretty sure that it wouldn’t smell like you to a werewolf nose either. I bought some of the shampoo, conditioner and body wash that you use to try and smell you, but it’s not the same. It doesn’t have your natural scent mixed with it so it’s not really _you_ smelling. Ya know? I don’t know if that makes sense, but to me it does. I don’t know… I just – I feel like I’m never going to see you again. It’s starting to feel like you’re dead and that you don’t exist anymore – or maybe that you never did, but I know that’s not true. These are starting to feel like letters to myself rather than letters to you and sometimes I wonder if you ever really loved me the way you say you do, because you left.

You left _me_. Without a word. _You left me_. How do you just walk away and leave someone like that when you love them? Maybe I’m selfish, but I would never be able to walk away from you as long as I knew that you still want me. Do you even still want me? Did you leave because you don’t want me anymore? Is that why you didn’t bother saying goodbye? If that’s the reason then I hope you never come back so I wont have to face that truth. At least then I can pretend that you still love me, that you never stopped loving me. I’ve already told you that you’re my forever no matter how cliché and cheesy that sounds. But I’m only human and you were born a werewolf. You’ll outlive my 100-year lifespan and this isn’t some romance novel or movie that’s going to make all this perfect and eternal. I just wish you were here so we wouldn’t be wasting the limited amount of time that I have to live, the limited amount of time that can be cut short at any second because of the lives that we lead and the things that are always trying to take away what we have. And now you’re helping them because you just walked away and left me here. I don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand what that has done to me. If you could then you never would have left without a word. You would have taken me with you, or at least kissed me goodbye and promised me that you’d come back. Or left me a fucking way to contact you and keep in touch. But you didn’t. And it hurts. _Real bad_ , if you haven’t figured that out yet.

I’m just running out of hope. I’m running out of things to hold on to. My senses are starting to forget you even though my memories of you remain the same. It feels like I love the ghost of you and our memories. And sometimes I wonder if I ever really buried myself against your neck to breathe in your scent, if I ever felt you pressing into my body and claiming me as yours and yours alone. I’m forgetting how you taste, how your heat feels wrapped around me and I’m afraid that someday without noticing, I’m going to start forgetting you. I’m afraid that if you never come back you’ll become just a passing memory, someone that I used to know and someone that I’ll wonder if I ever really knew. And I don’t want that to ever happen. I don’t want to wake up some day and realize that I’ve stopped thinking about you, that I’ve stopped missing you, loving you, needing you and wanting you. I don’t want to ever move on. When I think about my life and how I want it to be, I’m always with you.

I need you Derek. I’m not sure I’ll ever stop needing you, but more importantly I know that I never want to.

I love you, even if I hate your radishes. I hope you like the postcard I sent you today.

Stiles


	17. Sunday, October 20, 2013 - Letter Seventeen

Derek,

Holy shit. It’s day sixty-one of your silent absence. How thrilling. Someone needs to put me out of my misery. Soon. Cause this fucking sucks in the worse way. Not in the ‘I’m-going-to-come-down-your-throat-so-fucking-hard-I-black-out’ way. I can’t even jerk off in your bed without ending up sobbing afterward. That’s how much missing you hurts. If anything jerking off or fucking myself makes me miss you worse. There’s no relief from the memory of your hands, mouth, cock or body. I even bought a dildo with an inflatable knot and it’s not the same. It’s not _you._ I’m in physical pain without you here and it’s not just because of the no sex. I feel like my body is trying to forget you, but I cant. It wont let it even if it hurts me. I just need you to hurry home to me. Now. I don’t even know what to do anymore. I can barely focus on my classes and Scott knows something is wrong but I haven’t talked to him about you since I told him about us. It’s just too hard to talk about you sometimes. I started talking to Ms Rosenberg about my dreams and she said it would be supernatural and she’d look into it, but she said that it’s probably completely normal. That my brain is just trying to find a way to cope with you being gone. She told me about her ex-girlfriend that died. Both her and Mr Pryce lost the person they thought they were going to spend their lives with. I think that’s something that brought them together. Healing from that. But I don’t want to lose you like that. I cant. I wont survive it. I wont be able to heal. It would ruin me, just like loving you has ruined me for anyone else. There’s only one person I want to spend the rest of my life with and that’s you. But you know that. I’ve told you as much.

I pulled out your favorite book to read yesterday and I found an old birthday card from Laura in it. Gotta say it’s the last thing that I expected to find in it, but I’m glad that I did. Now I know when your birthday is! Ha! No more hiding that from me! That sucks dude that your birthday is on Christmas. Did your family do the whole combining presents thing? No wonder you never wanted to tell me because you know I’d make you celebrate both and not on the same day. Double party! We could celebrate your birthday before Christmas, celebrate Christmas and then New Years! Triple party. Guess we can just call it the party season, but I’m perfectly okay with them just being our own private parties. And I know that you won't have any objections to that.

Speaking of things you won’t object to (or maybe you would object to this)… remember those pups that I mentioned a couple of letters back? From the new wolves in town? Well, I, uh – I babysat them in the loft. The pack wanted to go out running on the full moon and I can’t keep up anyway, so I volunteered to watch the pups during the full moon. And had such a blast with them! But they did have a couple of accidents in the loft. Thankfully the loft’s floors are concrete so it was easy to clean up the mess. They’re just puppies though. It’s not like they did it on purpose. And they didn’t even turn into babies all night. I guess the full moon had them all riled up. But, uh – one of your couch legs is chewed up now. Sorry. While I was cleaning up one of the puppy’s messes and had it in time out,  the other one ended up using the couch leg as a chew toy. Oops..

I managed to tire them out and they slept in your bed with me. The pups curled up against my side and passed out. It was so adorable. I took pictures of them lying on their backs with their legs sticking up and their tongues hanging out of their mouth. They are perfect little terrors. _I want one._ I know that we haven't talked about kids, especially since that’s so far into the future (at least not until I finish college), but I want a family. Me and you and a couple of pups. That sounds just about perfect to me. I don’t know if there is something like a werewolf adoption network, but I’d like to look into it. At some point at least. Even if we don’t get one for the next six to seven years. At least we will have some information about it and if we cant get any werebabies (which I want so bad and no it’s not because I’ve always wanted a dog and my dad never let me have one) I’m okay with trying to find a human baby too.

I don’t even know if you want kids and a family… maybe I should rewrite this letter and take this part out. I don’t want to freak you out or anything, but it’s not like you’re here to freak out anyway. Maybe you won’t even come back and I won’t even be able to talk to you about kids and a family. Hell, it’s hard to imagine that you even miss me. You’re not here and I can’t send these letters, the postcards I’ve been sending every day haven't been returned to me and haven’t been responded to and you haven't called me. All of those things suggest that you don’t give a crap about me. Which is a really shitty way to treat your mate (even if we aren’t official mates yet. You haven't claimed me and I think it’s lame that you’re making me wait until I’m eighteen).

But, I mean, what if you _could_ read these letters? Would it make a difference? Would reading these letters be enough to make you _want_ to come back home to me? Would you even care? I just don’t know what to think anymore. What I know to be true is being contradicted by your absence. Everything sucks.

I miss you.

Stiles

 


	18. Friday, October 25, 2013 – Letter Eighteen

Derek,

Day sixty-six. God. It’s been sixty-six days? I guess saying over two months makes it seem like less time. That doesn’t mean that it feels like less time has passed. Augh. Why can’t I just go to sleep or go into a coma until you’re back? That sounds more appealing than having to think about you every waking moment. I guess sleeping wouldn’t really help since I dream about you too. The world keeps moving and life goes on and I don’t want it to. Whatever the hell I’m doing isn’t really living; it’s barely surviving. And who the fuck wants to do that?

Lydia is having a three-day bash this weekend since Halloween falls during the week this year. She usually throws big parties for just about everything. You should know; you’ve lurked in a couple of them. I’m gonna get drunk, I mean totally shitfaced and maybe a little baked too. Whatever it takes to forget about how much it hurts missing you. If I’m lucky maybe I’ll black out completely and given that Scott and the pack can’t get drunk on regular alcohol (and no one really wants to relive the wolfsbane alcohol accident) he’ll take care of me. He’s a bro like that. My best bro. He won’t let me drown in my own vomit (or tears).

Speaking of the pack. Everyone is okay. Scott, Allison and Isaac are solid and they’re making their thing work. Lydia is Lydia, but we’ve been getting closer. The twins left town and aren’t coming back and I think Lydia was a little bummed about losing her sexy-times partner, but I don’t think she’ll have a hard time finding another one. It’s not like she’s going to fall in love with a boy-toy. It’s not her style. Plus I think we all know that she still loves Jackson. I don’t think that’ll ever go away, just like I’ll never stop loving you. But I hope one day she’ll be able to be happy with someone else. Right now I think she’s just focusing on Lydia Martin and maybe I should take some pointers from her and just start focusing on myself. I can’t really do that yet. I miss you too damn much. 

I’m making pot roast again tonight. It makes me think of you since I know that it’s one of your favorite foods. I wish you were here to eat some of it, because I’m going to have leftovers all week from this. I’m making cheesecake too. I’m taking pictures of both of them and putting them on your next postcards so you’ll have pot roast and cheesecake wherever you are (if the postcards are even getting to you, but I’d like to think that if they aren’t, someone will enjoy them).

There’s a new Deputy in town. His name is Alexander (and don’t give me that look for being on a first name basis with him). He says he refuses to let anyone use his last name because it makes him sound old and he’s too young to be called a Mr. I think he might be in his thirties or maybe forties. I’ll have to get a hold of his file at some point and check it out to get all of his information. However old he is, he doesn’t have a problem with me being almost legal. (I still don’t think you should wait until I’m eighteen to make me your mate.) He, uh – he asked me out, like on a date (with the obvious intentions of a lot more afterward). I almost said yes to the date, just so I could have someone to go watch marvel movies with that actually enjoys them, but I told him no to the date and anything else because I’m taken. I wouldn’t be able to go back to his place and let him fuck me like he wants to and that’s not really fair to either of us so I told him that we could be friends only, no dating and no fucking. 

He seemed bummed out, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it and told me that he understood, so hopefully I have a new friend that I can start doing things with. The pack is usually busy and I’m always the odd man out. It’ll be nice to have a new friend. Honestly if I wasn’t so madly in love with you I think I would be interested in him. I don’t know if I could date him, but I think I’d try at least. He’s funny and he’s a different kind of funny than me, even though it’s a lot alike. It’s hard to explain, but he does make me laugh and smile. That’s hard for anyone to do that these days, but with Alexander I can talk about comics and all the things no one really likes to talk about as much as I do. If I didn’t want anyone but you touching me I think I could let him fuck me good and he seems like the kinda guy that would take good care of me, but I just cant get past the thought of letting anyone else touch me or fuck me.

I want the last (and only) person to have touched me be you. And I’m going to hold onto that for as long as I can, even if it’s years from now. I hope you’ll be back long before then to renew my memories of your scent and us. Hopefully you’ll be back to stay then and wont leave again. If you come back and decide to leave again you better damn well be ready to take me with you because there’s no way that I’m going to let you leave me behind. Even if I have to handcuff us together. You’re stuck with me buddy. Oh and if you’re not back before the end of the school year I might just enlist the pack for a road trip to hunt you down and sniff you out. Somehow we’ll find you. So you better be back before then. 

Anyway, I have to go meet Lydia to help her shop for this three-day bash.

I love you.

Stiles


	19. Thursday, October 31, 2013 - Letter Nineteen

Derek,

Day seventy-two.

Sooooooo… It’s Halloween! And you know what that means? CANDY! Lots of candy. SO much candy that I’m pretty sure that I’m going to be sick by the end of the night. The plans for today are to watch Nightmare Before Christmas like we do every year on Halloween. Oh, and remember that I put a copy of it in our DVD stash at the loft. That way we can watch it together when you get back. I mean we have a lot to catch up on when you get back, but I figured we can add the movie to the list. Yeah, I have a list. It seems to grow every day. But I figure if I don't keep a list then we will be missing out on a lot of things. And I don't want to miss out on anything with you. I want to share everything with you.

Sigh. This was supposed to be a happy letter. I feel like all my letters are sad now or end up being sat at some point because I miss you. I don't know how not to miss you. I feel like there’s something missing inside of me and I don't know how to get it back. I don't know if I can get it back without you. Sometimes I just sit here and stare at a blank page trying to figure out what to say that isn't sad or me talking about how much I miss you. I know my letters sound like a broken record sometimes, but I guess that doesn't matter if you're not reading them. Hell, you probably never will. Every day that passes by I think more and more that you’re never coming back. That you really did leave me. That you don't want me and just couldn't tell me that you didn't. Lydia says not to think like that, but sometimes I just can't help it. Most of the time Lydia is angry on my behalf and she wants to cut your genitals off and feed them to you. Hannibal Lecter style. I have to remind her that I really like your genitals and need them if you ever come back. That doesn't really stop her from being angry that I mope around because I miss you.

Anyway. So I went to that three-day bash that Lydia had this last weekend for Halloween. It was awesome. It was an epic Lydia Martin party, like they always are. I had a blast. Pretty sure I only remember like half of it. Some kids brought pot (like they always do) and we smoked it up. Scott can't exactly get high, but he sure as hell tried. Allison decided to join me in my humans-can-do-this-and-werewolves-can’t activities. Needless to say we became the giggle twins of the night. I’m sure I was drowning in giggles while Allison was choking on Cheetos. I have a few pictures of Allison trying to shove as many Cheetos in her mouth as possible, with cheese all over her face and hands. I’m not even sure how she managed to breathe. But I know I couldn't breathe because I was laughing too hard. Sometime after that I blacked out from drinking too much, but Scott assured me that I was a drunk party animal. I really can't remember anything after the Cheeto incident (and it will always be referred to as the Cheeto incident).

I, uh - I kinda woke up naked in a bed next to Danny the next morning. Pretty positive that nothing happened, but apparently I decided to jump into Lydia’s pool with all of my clothes on while I was blacked out. Danny pulled me out of the pool and took me to a room. He said I stripped out of all my wet clothes and fell into bed, still wet, mumbling to myself. He said nothing happened, but he stayed to make sure I didn't drown in my own vomit. Danny is a good guy. I trust him. I mean, he’s good people. I know me and Danny aren’t really technically friends (since really our connection is through Jackson and by default, Lydia), but I think we could be, you know, good friends. Especially since he’s in on the whole werewolf thing now. I really should ask him how long he’s known. I guess Scott and I weren't exactly the quietest whisperers when he was turned. Hey, we were trying to figure it out. No judging! Plus Jackson probably told him anyway after he was turned. I guess that’s more likely, but eh who knows. Anyway, so that was the party I talked about last letter. Scott mentioned that there might be a rave going on tonight at an undisclosed location (no one knows where yet), but I don't think I’m going to go. I'm not really in the party mood. I’m more in the stay at home and eat candy and watch TV kind of mood.

I bought some candy to give away to kids that show up at Scott’s house looking for some goodies. And I bought the good kind. None of that cheap stuff some people hand out (like candy corn... only only people like candy corn and yes that includes you :-P). Speaking of candy. I bought some KitKats for your stash. You know, the one you no longer have because I ate it all. Yeah, that one. I probably shouldn't even put them in your stash because they’ll get stale before you get back. That and I’ll eat them all anyway before you come back. I guess I can store them in your secret stash place for emergencies. Like for my study nights. Sometimes sugar helps. I’m gonna go candy shopping anyway tomorrow because that’s when they have the big candy sales. Lydia said she’s going with me as a candy chaperone to make sure that I don't buy any gross “junk” candy. She said she’s going to help me shop for the very best candy so I can have sweets to gorge on for our The Notebook nights. Or, well, any night that I - _yeah._

Maybe I’ll put all of the candy that we buy into your stash. At least then no one will have access to my candy but me. Unless they sniff it out, but I doubt they would be able to find your stash and if they did, they probably couldn't open it.

I know the secret stash handshake. ;-) Which means I get all the goodies. Yessss. Mine. My goodies. Just like you’re mine too. My Derek. My mate.

_Come home._

Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone. Sorry it's been months since I've added to this. Hopefully it will be added too more frequently. There will be two long fics posted in the next couple of months that have been taking up my time. So check back for those! As always, come say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sterekbros.tumblr.com/).


	20. Saturday, November 16, 2013 - Letter Twenty

Derek,

Day eighty-eight.

So I’ve got some news. It’s good news I guess. Maybe? It’s not bad news. At least I wouldn't consider news about pups to be bad. Remember those new werewolves I mentioned a few letters back? Well their _new_ pups are almost due so I’ve been watching their current pups a lot more at the loft. I think I’m in love with them. Every time I get to watch them I want to keep them and never give them back. Then they do something douchey and I never want to see them again for a whole ten seconds. I think it’s a love/annoy relationship. Then again aren’t a lot of relationships like that?

I think parent/children relationships have to be like that. I mean, I know plenty of times my mom and dad wanted to sell me to the circus because of the situations I got myself into, but they still loved me and I know they wouldn't sell me to the circus. Well, pretty sure. At least eighty percent sure they wouldn't. I guess it depends how much the circus is willing to pay for my awesome. I guess I would sell myself to the circus too if the money was good enough. But then I probably wouldn't be able to spend any of it so what would be the point? Nevermind. Idea fail.

Anyway, what on earth was I talking about? Douchey little werewolves? They’re not that bad. They’re just kids. Well, werebabies. They’re mostly pups than kids, but their parents said that they’ll probably do that more often than not before they stop shifting in a few years. I wonder if they are born as pups or babies? I’m sure that thought has crossed my mind at some point since I first met them, but I can't remember if I put it down on paper. Or told you about it. Oh well. I’m just gonna write about it again even if I already told you. You’re going to have to answer my questions if you manage to come back before they’re born.

I guess I can ask their parents (how awkward is that convo going to be? ‘uh, do you birth pups or humans?’ haha okay maybe that’s not the best approach, but at least I’ll know). I mean if they are born as pups then that means that they shift in the wombs. I wonder how that feels? I mean it’s gotta be strange feeling a human kid move around like that. But to feel a full on shift inside? That would kind of be awesome and freaky. I guess that means they can't get sonograms unless it’s from someone like Deaton that knows about weres. Which would super blow if we couldn't see our future pup before it’s born if we get a surrogate (oh my god I’m getting way ahead of myself here. I don't even know if you want kids, but you know how I can get when I go off on these tangents of mine. Things just end up all jumbled together at once. And we’re not even officially mated yet, anyway. I need to slow my roll here).

I guess I can't help but think about these things when I take care of the pups for an extended period of time. I’m just so sold on them. Out of everything, they’re the only things that have made me happy since you left. Sure I’ve had moments that weren't completely miserable, but I haven't had moments where I’m ecstatic or anything. But when I’m watching them they make everything seem better. It might be their innocence or unconditional love or just their presence, but it’s something. I think it’s something good. At least for now. They make me miss you, thinking about losing something that I could have had with the only person that I wanted it with.

A mate, home and family.

But I guess they give me hope, too. That at some point all this pain and missing you will get better. Especially if my growing fear about you never coming back comes true. Something has to go right at some point, right? It’s gotta get better. I know I said I’d wait for you forever, but I guess sometimes forever ends.

Lewis Carroll had Alice ask, ‘How long is forever?’ and the White Rabbit answers, ‘Sometimes, just one second.’

What if our forever ends? What if our one second is over? Would we even know? Am I just ignoring the facts and hoping for the best? I mean, I keep thinking if you loved me that you would call. That you would drop a postcard in the mail with no return address and tell me that you love me and you’ll be home as soon as you can. But there’s been nothing. And I’m trying to stay positive, but it’s almost been three months without a word from you. Three months. Who even does that? How does that even make sense? I’m sure there have been mail boxes and phones somewhere along the way wherever you are going or staying. You should have said something by now. _Something_. A ‘hey I’m okay and I love you’ or a ‘fuck off I never want to see you again’ would suffice.

Something. _Anything_.

I just - I don't understand. I’m not sure that I’ll ever understand. I’m not sure anyone in my situation would be able to. I go through so many emotions when I think about you. I love you. I miss you. I hate you. I hurt. I get sad. Angry. Nostalgic. So many different things. Sometimes I don't even know how to feel. Sometimes I’m just numb. Sometimes I can't feel anything and I wonder if I’ll ever feel normal again. Hell, what is normal anymore?

And then there are days where things are okay. Days that I spend with Lydia doing Lydia things. Days that I spend with Danny practicing after school and he lets me score goals so I’ll feel better. He pretends that I actually make them, but let’s be real here. No one gets a goal in on Danny. Other days I hang out with Scott, Allison and Isaac and they try not to make me feel like the fourth wheel, but I always manage to somehow anyway. Sometimes I hang out at the school with Ms Rosenberg or Mr Pryce and research random supernatural crap (you can never be too prepared in this town). Most of the time I mourn, even when I don't know I’m doing it. It’s just become part of my everyday life. I’m sure at some point it will stop like most things do, but I’m not sure when. Either when you come back or however much time it takes to get over the love of your life abandoning you.

Anyway. I have to go. I hear the pups getting into something and I need to go check on them.

I still love you. _Always_.

Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Finally* an update! Hope y'all enjoy it!  
> Come say HI on [Tumblr](http://sterekbros.tumblr.com/)!


	21. Saturday, November 30, 2013 - Letter Twenty-One

 

Derek,

Day 92. At least I think it’s been 92 days. Sometimes I feel like I lose count and then I try to count the days and I’m not sure if I counted them correctly. So I think it’s been 92 days since you left, but I’m not really sure anymore. I know it’s been awhile since the last time I wrote, but I guess I just haven't found the time to write. I can't say it’s been particularly busy around here. Normal I guess. Or maybe I just haven't had much to say. It’s not like you’ve written anything to me. You haven't even sent me a postcard with no return address on it. I haven't gotten any creepy breathing phone calls from unknown numbers. Nothing. There’s just nothing. It’s like you don't even exist anymore. But I know that you did. I have photographs and memories and I  _ know _ you existed. Or maybe it was just a figment of my imagination. Maybe it was all just in my head. Maybe you never existed and I just made you up? Created someone that loved me with a face my mind plucked out of a crowd and thought  _ that’s him; he’s the one.  _ He’s the one I’m going to love  _ forever. _ That’s what it’s starting to feel like. Like I’m clutching at pieces of you left behind that I’ll never be able to put back together again. Trying to create you out of the things that you’ve left behind just to prove that you existed. 

I still carry the picture of you and Laura in Times Square in my wallet. Having it with me makes me feel like I’m not completely insane. Like it’s the one reminder that you existed and that you loved me. Once. I can't be sure if you love me now, but I was there before. When you told me you loved me the first time. You loved me once, even if you might not anymore. I’m still going to love you  _ forever _ . A part of me always will. Even if I manage to move on somehow and find someone else to love. I’ll always love you. You were my first everything. My first real love, the first to love me back how I loved you, the first person I ever shared all of me with: heart, body and soul. I’ll always love you. How could I not? I can't imagine loving anyone else as much as I love you. But if you never come back… maybe someday. Maybe I’ll let myself move on and find someone else. I’m not sure if that would ever happen, at least not anytime soon, but if you never come back… maybe someday.

I guess I should start writing about what I actually intended to write in this letter. Mundane things. I was going to tell you about the traditional Stilinski-McCall feast that we had for Thanksgiving. Of course my dad wouldn't let anyone touch the brisket he spent a whole day smoking until it was time to eat. Melissa was in charge of the turkey as usual. She makes really good turkeys. I don't know how she makes them all juicy and tender, but she has magic turkey hands, or skills. Or something. Really. She’s the turkey expert. No one can make a turkey like Melissa. The pack was in charge of the sides. Scott is not the best cook in the world, but he tries. The pack pretty much took over for Scott’s cooking shortcomings. Who knew Isaac could actually cook? He makes some mean stuffing. Allison makes awesome mashed potatoes, too. I, of course, was in charge of the desserts. 

I know, I know. I can hear the joke now about how was there even any dessert at Thanksgiving if I was in charge of it. Cause I’d eat them all. Haha. You’re not funny. That joke is so old and I’d like to inform you that I’ve been in charge of plenty of Thanksgiving desserts for many, many years. And we’ve had dessert at all of them thank you very much. I’m a dessert expert. In both the making  _ and _ the eating. I usually make pecan pie because everyone loves that and it’s pretty easy. The real winner is the cherry whipped pie that I learned how to make from my mom. You’ll never get the recipe out of me. Ever. But you missed out because everyone was moaning and groaning as they ate my pie and had seconds and thirds. I made extra because I knew the pack would be scarfing everything down. You can never make too much food for a pack of werewolves and humans that have my metabolism. Thanksgiving was a hit. It usually is in this family. I wish you could have been there to share it with me and with the pack.

On another note I had to suffer through the yearly Black Friday sale shopping with Lydia. I swear I don't understand why she doesn't do all her shopping online. These sales start sooner and sooner every year and you don't even have to leave your house anymore. Lydia doesn't seem to understand that concept. She also likes to try on every bit of clothing she can. I pretty much follow her around and carry everything. At least by the end of the day she feeds me. We went to this nice sushi place. Some of the stuff I was scared of. Like the sea urchin and fish eggs. Just about everything else was great. I think I’m going to develop a thing for sushi with Lydia taking me to places like that. It could be our thing. Our sushi thing. I need more stuff like that. I need to find new things to replace all the things that I don't do with you anymore.

Sigh. I feel like I’m going to go on another tangent about missing you. I do. Miss you. I should go before I start again.

I still love you.

Stiles


End file.
